The Admiral
by Emi-Lynn
Summary: Tim knew he'd have to deal with his father eventually, so why not now? Can time, distance and changes in perspective allow them to find common ground or will their relationship shatter for good? Luckily, Tim's got reasons to stand tall. Story 9 in the AALCSLT series.
1. Chapter 1

The Admiral

 _Tuesday Morning, USS Carl Vinson, off the coast of San Diego, California_

Normally, this would be a discussion between captain and subordinate, but Matthew Cline had resisted all nudges to move up one more time before retirement and he'd been the Air Boss aboard the Vinson since John had made admiral, the mini-boss on the last ship he'd captained.

"Matt, we've known each other a long time. You've more than earned this promotion."

"Yes, Sir. I realize that, Sir."

John glanced down at the time. He had a video conference in less than fifteen minutes. "Then what's the problem? You've got your retirement to think about."

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

If there was anyone aboard the ship that had earned that right, it was Matthew Cline. "Of course."

"Next step up I take, that's going to put me in a desk somewhere, probably on land."

Patting the polished mahogany of his own desk, John smiled. "Nothing wrong with that."

"No, there's not, but it's not where I need to be. It's not the best use of my skills, Sir." From up in Admiral McGee's private office on the flag deck there was a good view of the various planes landing and taking off from the flight deck and Cline watched that for a moment, obviously gathering his thoughts. Finally he turned back and squared his shoulders. "Since I became the Air Boss, the Carl Vinson has had the best safety record of every carrier in the fleet. I take care of my boys, both on the deck and up in the air. That's what I'm good at and those couple of hundred dollars a month I'd get from retiring at a higher rank isn't worth walking away from that. Rosie and I will be just fine if I retire as a commander instead of a captain."

"You're sure?"

"What is it we tell the new recruits? Be all they can be? Be the best? This is what I'm best at."

The other man had a point. "All right, I'll pass your request along and also my agreement. I know Captain Stanley will be happy to have you aboard for another two years."

"Thank you, Admiral McGee, sir." Slipping back into the more formal protocols, Cline stepped back and saluted before turning and leaving John alone with his thoughts.

Timothy was on his mind once again, the conversation with Cline bringing up one of the last arguments they'd had before the years of not speaking.

 _"Don't you get it, Dad? This is what I'm good at. I track down terrorists and murderers, anything and anyone that can hurt the Navy. A lot of what I do – I'm the only one in the entire agency that can do it. Why would I walk away from that to fill a hole that has dozens of people that could fill it?"_

 _"At least in the Navy you'll have opportunities to advance. Think of your future, Timothy. Twenty years from now they'll hand you a gold plated watch and a lousy pension."_

 _"And the knowledge that I helped a lot of people, Dad."_

Leaning heavily on his elbows, John rubbed his forehead before forcing down the doubts and the questions. It was time for his conference call.

 _Thursday Afternoon_

Always keep them nervous and on their toes. That was the best piece of advice he'd ever gotten from his father, the senior Admiral McGee, so he casually and slowly looked over the report in his hand before raising his eyes to the squirming lieutenant standing in front of his desk. "Yes?"

Lieutenant White usually wasn't bothered too much by the usual drill, but he looked like he wasn't sure how the Admiral would take this piece of news. "I've been doing weekly checks on your son as you asked. That big, inter-branch raid a few days ago?" White waited until the Admiral nodded. "He... umm, your son, he was apparently one of the architects of the raid and was setting that up while he was out on leave. According to my source, he was the one that broke the whole thing open."

"Really?" That piece of news garnered the Admiral's full attention.

The details were still very hush-hush, but everyone with connections in the Navy knew that some serious weaponry had been stolen, a massive string of thefts that had hit pretty much every branch of the military. Rumors about the raid were flying fast and furious, but no one outside the task force had been given any detailed information. "So, he's back at work now? Was his leave a ruse to cover his part of the investigation?"

The squirm and twitch of the side of White's face told his answer before he opened his mouth. "That I couldn't find out, Admiral McGee, sir, but I was able to confirm that he was injured during one of the raids."

"Injured? Injured how? Was he shot?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, since he's a civilian I wasn't able to access his medical records, just the incident report from the responding Army medics. They reported that your son was thrown out of one of the eighth floor windows."

John felt the breath catch in his chest as he straightened even past the ramrod straight posture he was known for. "Thrown out... are you telling me that my son is dead?"

"No! I mean, no sir, Admiral McGee. I was able to confirm that he was taken by ambulance to Bethesda Medical. Then he left AMA the next day."

Quickly stacking the rest of the files on his desk, the Admiral pulled up his schedule on his computer. Other than the ship tour and dinner tonight with Senator Wilson, everything on it was vital, but would survive a short delay over the weekend. "Lieutenant White, reschedule all of my Friday calls and meeting for next week and get me on a flight to DC. I want to be there first thing in the morning."

"Yes, Sir."

Standing to dismiss the other man, the Admiral turned toward the window. "Excellent. Barring anything unforeseen, I will return Sunday night."

He heard, but didn't acknowledge, the retreat of his lieutenant. Staring out the window of the flag bridge, he remembered several heated discussions he'd had with his mother since Timothy had joined NCIS. He'd been convinced his son was throwing his life away while Penny accused him of refusing to see the man he'd become. Perhaps it was time to see which one of them was right.

-NCIS-

 _Friday Morning_

Still considering taking one more personal day to stay here, Gibbs watched carefully as McGee gingerly walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed. He decided not to call him on the fact that he was wearing a very baggy shirt and slip-on shoes. "You sure you're going to be all right on your own today?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine."

"All right. Tia's clothes are all laid out for her so you don't have to reach up and if you need help, Maggie said she could come down. Jackie, too. You're going to take it easy, right?"

The coffee was already made, so Tim poured himself a cup, not bothering to add anything to it, as Gibbs handed him a pain pill. "Sure, probably go get some groceries later on."

Gibbs stepped in front of him, pressing a finger across his lips as he shook his head. "Nope. You're not driving, you're not lifting anything – not until you've been cleared by Ducky and I know that's not happening for a couple more days. You order them online and I'll pick them up tonight." Tim looked disappointed and Gibbs smiled before kissing his forehead. He knew how much the other man enjoyed personally picking out the produce. "You can fondle tomatoes next week."

Busted, Tim sighed even as he enjoyed the tenderness. "Yeah, okay. Maybe we'll take a walk around the park if it warms up today or just sit on the porch."

Another kiss to his forehead, the warm lips turning up in a smile. "That's more like it."

-NCIS-

Having his aide along to handle things would have made the trip easier, but this was a family matter. Snapping his fingers got him a Navy vehicle and driver, but he wanted a strange petty officer under foot even less than his own lieutenant so he had the driver drop him off at a rental agency. Now with the address, courtesy of Lieutenant White, programmed into the on-board GPS, he was on his way.

The navigation system delivered him to a neighborhood of small but comfortable single family homes, which was a surprise. He'd been glad to see that his son had moved out of an apartment, but a condo or townhouse would be a much better fit for a single man with a demanding career.

Parking, Admiral McGee locked the car and carefully placed his cover on his head before tugging his sleeves into place and walking up the step. Once up on the porch he removed his cover, securing it under his arm before he rang the bell and stood at perfect attention.

A barking dog was the first sign of anyone home, a big dog by the deepness of the bark and John felt an eyebrow raise up ever so slightly. _Timothy has a dog?_ The thought that he had been given an incorrect address crossed his mind before he heard a familiar voice telling 'Jethro' to hush. The dog instantly silenced, showing he was well trained, another surprise.

The door opened and he was face to face with the son he hadn't seen in over seven years.

Despite the recent injuries, time had been kind to him. Slimmer in the waist and broader in the shoulders since the last time, he looked even more like a younger version of John. Looking carefully, he saw the bruised and scraped face, the sling that supported his right arm, the brace on his left wrist and the rigid way Tim held his body and he subconsciously reverted back to his training to hide his shock.

"Timothy, why did you leave the hospital?"

Tim stared at him, but before he could answer, footsteps could be heard behind him.

"Daddy, Daddy, I got dressed all by myself."

When Tim stepped back and turned, John had to bite back a gasp. A little girl, no more than four or five, was standing in the living room, mostly dressed, even though there was something odd about the shirt she was wearing. Sure enough, Tim bent down, wincing as he did, and tapped her chest.

"Where's the princess?"

She looked down at herself, then looked up and grinned. "I got it on backwards."

"You want Daddy to help you or do you want to try it again?"

"I can do it." Still grinning, her bright white teeth shining against her richly colored skin, she ran back down the hallway and Tim turned once again to face him.

"You're a father? You got married without telling any of the family? That's why you were out on leave?" Since Tim had stepped back to take care of his daughter, John used the opportunity to come inside the house and close the door behind him. Tim didn't object, but he didn't look all that happy either, but considering his injuries, it might just be the pain he was obviously in. "Did you think your mother or I wouldn't approve of you marrying a black woman?"

Tim slowly straightened up to face his father. "I was out on bereavement leave, Admiral. Grace died a little over a month ago and now I'm a single father."

There was only one Grace that he associated with his son. "Grace? Grace Miller? You had a child with Grace Miller?" Dropping his voice, he leaned closer. "But she was a lesbian."

Timothy's expression reminded him of Penny's when she argued with him. "Plumbing still worked, Sir. Why are you here?"

John had waited over thirty years for his son to grow a backbone, but the boy had picked a lousy time to do it. Flustered, he waved his arms around, almost dropping his cover in the process. "You got thrown out of a window on the eighth floor."

"I bounced." Tim stared at him a moment longer before rolling his eyes. "I landed on the roof of the next building so I only fell about two stories."

"You left the hospital AMA."

"Yeah, well, my daughter lost her mother, then my very first full day back at work, I fell out of a building. I didn't want to scare her."

"You needed medical care."

"I got medical care. They popped my shoulder back in, stitched up my head, made sure my broken ribs were stable, set my arm, taped up my fingers, braced my wrists, monitored the internal bleeding until it stopped and observed the concussion."

John stared at him. Tim was a computer specialist. Despite what others thought, he did understand how gifted Tim was with technology. In the Navy he would have shot up the ranks specializing in cyber-warfare. As a civilian he should have been a desk jockey, not out in the field, not like this. "I've been in the Navy since before you were born, been on more combat tours than I can count and I've never been hurt like that."

Tim shrugged and walked back toward the kitchen where a coffee mug was sitting on the counter and John followed him, listening. "I've been hurt worse, this time it was just a bunch of injuries."

Tim pointed at a cupboard and when he opened it he found a row of coffee mugs. Fixing himself a cup of coffee gave him something to do, just for a moment. The 'hurt worse' he filed away for later, but he could understand the idea of it being a bunch of injuries that added up – almost. "Tell me that you're at least following up with a doctor from Bethesda."

"Nah, Ducky's taking care of me."

"Ducky?"

"Our Medical Examiner."

"Medical Examiner?" He almost sloshed the coffee out of the pot when he set it back down. "You're getting medical care from a coroner? He does remember that you're supposed to have a pulse, right?"

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. "Dr. Mallard is a respected physician in addition to being a world renowned medical examiner. He took care of me after I was mauled by a dog. He took care of me the last time I dislocated my shoulder and he would have taken care of me after I was blown up, but he was in the hospital himself. I trust his judgment; our entire agency trusts his judgment."

"I see." Admiral McGee took a deep breath and loosened his grip on his mug. "Well then, I suppose this 'Ducky' deserves my thanks for taking such good care of you."

"Grandpa Ducky always takes care of us."

Timothy's daughter bounced in to join them in the kitchen, a large German Shepard practically glued to her side. Timothy's daughter... good lord, he was a grandfather – a grandfather. He turned and looked at her a little closer. Her shirt was on correctly now, an ebony-skinned Disney princess holding a frog and surrounded by flowers was on the front. He was about to ask her about it but her next words threw him for even more of a loop.

"Grandpa Ducky and Papa take good care of us."

"Papa?"

"Yes, Papa." There was more than a little challenge in Timothy's eyes and John gulped down most of his coffee to cover his shock.

Finally he set the cup down and picked up his cover from where he'd set it on the counter. "I see. Well, since everything is obviously under control, I will return to my post. Good day, Timothy."

He made it almost to the front door when a little hand took his. "Daddy's fingers don't work too good right now. Can you tie my shoes before you go home?"

Admiral John McGee was many things, but when it came to little girls, he was no ass. He took a deep breath and forced a smile on his face. "Of course."

"Goody, I'll go get them."

She ran back toward what he assumed was her room, leaving him to stand in the living room, looking around. Grudgingly, he had to admit to himself that it was a pleasant, comfortable home. "It's a nice place."

"What? Oh, thank you." The compliment appeared to have thrown Tim for a loop, which made him feel a little better. No reason for him to be the only one floundering here.

Small talk was, occasionally, part of the job so he kept going. "You buying or renting?"

"Renting for now. Grace... it was very quick in the end, so I didn't have a lot of time. The team actually moved me out of the apartment and into here while I collected Tiana and brought her back with me."

"Tiana? That's a pretty name. Are you going to officially introduce us?"

"I thought you were on your way back to your ship. Don't you always hide on your ship when your family might need you?"

There was hurt and challenge in that statement and John never backed down from a challenge. Dropping his cover back down on the back of the sofa, he crossed his arms. "I'm here until Sunday night. Past that, I'll need a change of ship's itinerary authorized by the SecNav."

Tia was back with her favorite sparkly light-up tennis shoes. Tim sighed and John knew he'd won this round. "Tia, sweetheart, let me introduce you, all right. This is my father, Admiral John McGee. Sir, this is Tiana Caitlin McGee, my daughter."

The Admiral was ready to give a formal nod of his head, but Tia was talking almost instantly. "You're my daddy's daddy? I have another grandpa?"

"I am your daddy's father. I think he's a bit too old to call me Daddy anymore." Much to his surprise, Tiana shook her head.

"I'm never going to be too old to call my daddy, Daddy. Even when I'm as old as Grandma Maggie, he's still going to be my daddy."

Shocked, John found himself backpedaling. "Well, little girls can do that. Now, let's get your shoes tied." She climbed up onto the sofa and he briskly and efficiently tied the first shoe, but Tiana shook her head again.

"You didn't tie it right."

John blinked in surprise once again. He was an Admiral, people don't tell him he's wrong very often. "Young lady, I'll have you know that I've been tying a proper Navy bow since before your father was even born."

"But you have to sing the song."

"The song?" John let out a long sigh, deliberately ignoring his son, who he knew was grinning up a storm behind him. "I'm an Admiral, I do not sing. Why don't you sing it to me while I tie your other shoe?"

"Okey-dokey, artichokie." She grinned and started to sing about the hopping bunny ears and the dancing hands, but John was remembering when Tim was three and that was his answer to everything. Okey-dokey, artichokie – it had made his commanding officers smile during the family tour, but John had watched the older children and been mortified by his own son's childish behavior. Eighteen months later, Timothy had stood ramrod straight, only spoke when spoken to, and knew how to properly shake hands. He'd also stopped calling John, Daddy.

Shoes tied and song sung, Tiana skipped back to her room to pick out a hair accessory. John watched her leave before looking over at his son. "They grow up fast."

Tim had a sad expression on his face. "They don't have to. Not that fast. She'll grow up, yes, but at her own speed and I'm going to cherish every moment along the way."

"It was for the greater good, Timothy."

"Whose greater good, Admiral? Was sacrificing my childhood worth making admiral six months earlier than Grandpa did? You used to tell me that I'd understand when I was older. Well, I'm older now, I'm a father, and there's no career perk that's worth sacrificing one day of my daughter's childhood."

John didn't know what to say.

"Why are you here, Dad?"

"You were hurt."

"I've been hurt before and you never even called, let alone fly across the country. Why are you here?"

He started to lie, then shook his head. "I don't know."

The conversation was halted when Tiana returned with a hair bow. Her hair was already tied up and John bit his lip while he watched Tim painfully clip it in place. It was early enough on the East coast that he suspected they hadn't had breakfast yet. Before he could make a decision as to whether to offer to take them out, Tim moved into the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

Pain meds always made him feel a little off, but the morning had totally gone sideways when he'd opened the door to find his father standing on the front porch in full Dress Blues. The only real plus of the morning was that the old man was almost as off-keel as he was.

Barely even one-handed, he was rather limited in the kitchen, but Jethro had sliced up most of the fruit for Tia's favorite smoothies before he'd left for the Yard. That and the coffee cake Ziva had sent over would have to do. "You ready to eat, baby girl?"

"Yep. Is Grandpa going to eat with us?"

Tim winced. He'd been hoping the Admiral would storm off like he'd always done in the past. "If he wants too."

Gibbs had chopped up pineapple, peaches and mangoes, plus there were frozen strawberries and blueberries ready in the freezer. Wedges of cabbage were also in the fridge, ready to go. If he wanted to do a Hulk, then he'd have to manage to slice an apple in half and cut a slice of lime, but it would be worth it. "So, what's it going to be, sweetheart? You want Hulk Juice?"

Right on cue, Tiana grinned and looked at the Admiral. "I love Hulk Juice. It's mine and Papa's favorite, but Uncle Tony thinks it's scary. You're not scared, are you, Grandpa?"

Tim could say a great number of things about his father, but the man would never back down from a challenge, especially not from a child, so the answer wasn't much of a surprise. "If you and _Papa_ are brave enough to drink Hulk Juice, I certainly can handle it."

Yeah, eventually his father would have choice words about his apparent lifestyle, but in the meantime, he'd enjoy making the older man squirm. "Three glasses of Hulk Juice coming up."

Sure enough, as he added each ingredient to the mixer, his father's eyes widened until they were almost comical proportions as he turned the blender on. By the time he was ready to hand over a glass he might have actually seen a flash of fear in the usually cold eyes.

"There you go, Sir, one glass of Hulk Juice."

His father gingerly took the glass almost as if he was expecting it to attack him before watching Tiana happily drink hers. She took a couple of large swallows before she stopped and grinned at him, a bright green mustache above her lip. "Try it, Grandpa, it's good."

The Admiral squared his shoulders and tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Bottoms up." He took a small sip, then his eyes lit up. "Not bad, not bad at all."

-NCIS-

Coming up through the ranks, John McGee had never wasted time with any of the silly challenges that seemed to fill much of the downtime while at sea. There was a certain stature at being above such things plus he'd never had to worry about the embarrassment of actually losing one of the darn things. However, a challenge in front of his son, especially from a child, was something that he couldn't turn down. The loss of face would be too great. Besides, if a four year old could handle drinking whatever this concoction was, then he certainly could and this 'Uncle Tony' must have a rather weak constitution.

However, watching the spinach, cabbage and – was that kale – being tossed into the fancy blender made him a bit nervous. When the children were young, his former wife had fixed some awful dishes that he'd barely managed to choke down and he could see her trying something like this. Finally, the obnoxiously green drink was in his hand and he was stuck. Tiana seemed quite happy to drink it, but she was a child and therefore her taste was suspect.

Out of options, he gamely picked it up. "Bottoms up." Steeling himself, he took a small sip. It was slightly tropical and actually very refreshing. He took another sip and nodded. "Not bad, not bad at all." Timothy looked vastly amused, so he'd give him this round.

Three slices of some sort of coffee cake were set out on the island where they were eating and Tiana leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Auntie Ziva made it for us. She's not as good of a cooker as Daddy is, but we don't tell her that." John nodded, about to complement Tiana about not insulting someone's cooking when she told him the rest. "She's a ninja."

"A ninja?"

Tiana's head bobbed up and down. "Uh-huh, she got mad at Uncle Tony and told him she learned three more ways to kill him with a paper clip."

"Three more?" Tim wasn't correcting her so John wasn't sure how much was fantasy and how much was confusion. Instead, he was turning it into a math lesson, much to John's surprise.

"How many ways did she know before?"

Tiana's forehead scrunched as she thought. "Eighteen?"

"So how many does she know now?" Patiently, and with his partially bandaged hand, he helped her count up three more times.

"Twenty-one!"

"That's right. Very good, Sweetheart. Now let's finish our breakfast so we can go to the park before it rains."

"Okey-dokey." She fell silent as she became serious about eating. Finally, after she was finished and Tim sent her to play, John had to ask.

"Ninja?"

Tim gave a one shouldered shrug. "Former Mossad, close enough. She's well qualified to teach Tiana how to defend herself. First boy that steps out of line..."

John snorted out a laugh, which surprised both men. "You might need a bail fund instead of a college fund."

"If the kid's smart, he'll be more worried about the rest of the family."

Now that they were alone, he could ask. "Including _Papa_?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Tim gave him a hard look and for a moment it was like looking into a mirror.

"You are not gay, Timothy."

"Why? Because it's not the Navy way? Because no proper McGee has ever stepped outside of what society thinks is normal?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Life is difficult enough without inviting that sort of trouble."

"What sort of trouble, Dad?" John was pretty sure that if his arm hadn't been strapped down, Tim's hands would have been waving. "You think I should keep pretending to be something I'm not, just to keep the gossip away?"

"I know you have dated women, Timothy."

"Yeah, I have. I've dated lost of women. I even dated a professional cheerleader, but none of them have ever made me feel like he does."

John pinched the bridge of his nose. "I did not need to know that."

"I'm not talking about sex; I'm talking about in here."

He looked up just as Tim thumped his chest. Apparently, this was more than just scratching an itch, at least in Tim's eyes. "Surely there's a woman someplace that could make you feel that way or at least be a proper mother to Tiana."

Oh, that was the wrong thing to say as the last shade of intimidation John had over his son seemingly disintegrated. "Grace is, and will always be, Tiana's mother. I'm not going to take away the one person alive that loves her as much as I do, just to replace him with someone with plumbing that you approve of."

"You said it yourself, Timothy. Grace has only been dead a short while and now this, this man." John sighed in frustration. He didn't even know the name of the man that had apparently turned his son and he was pretty sure that wasn't something Tim was ready to share with him.

-NCIS-

As soon as Tiana left to play in her room, and he'd given her the look to stay there until he called, Tim braced for the battle he knew would come. Luckily, Jethro's name hadn't come up yet and he made a conscious decision to make sure it stayed that way for a while.

The two of them knew that their age difference and the fact that Gibbs was his boss at work would be an issue for many people, so there was no need to add that to the fire right now. Let his father rant and rave about him being with a man, any man, first.

-NCIS-

"Umm, Sir?"

Clayton Jarvis looked up from the file he was reviewing before his meeting at the Pentagon. His assistant had an expression on his face he'd never seen. Something between shock and worry. "Yes, Charlie?"

"Admiral McGee took a day of personal leave, plus the weekend, Sir."

"Really?" He'd dangled some hints in front of John McGee, then learned how serious the rift was between he and his son. No further discussions with the senior McGee had strayed into anything personal, but he'd had his assistant keep an eye out for anything unusual with the Admiral.

"Yes, Sir. Caught a transport to Norfolk, then up here first thing this morning. Instead of using a Navy car and driver, he insisted on being dropped off to get a rental car. From there, I don't know where he went."

Jarvis closed the files and stuck them in his briefcase as he stood. "Oh, I'm pretty sure I do. Come along, Charlie, we have a detour to make after we meet with the Joint Chiefs."

-NCIS-

"You've never dated men, Timothy. Why start now?"

"In other words, I never brought a man home to meet the family. Gee, I wonder why?"

John was pacing, trying to keep his voice low for the child's sake. "Was it that Grace? Did she introduce you to the homosexual lifestyle?" Much to his shock, Tim burst out laughing. "I do not find this amusing, Timothy."

Tim got very serious, crossing his arms as best he could while his voice went hard. "San Diego, Andy Richards."

San Diego, he'd had a brief stint there while Timothy was in high school. Less than a year, hardly worth moving the family cross-country, but he'd done it. Executive Officer aboard the Kitty Hawk before he'd made Captain and had his own ship. Executive Officer under Captain Vincent Richards, whose son had been a star athlete in high school, but struggled with some of his classes.

"You were supposed to tutor him."

"I did. We had a lot of fun with anatomy."

John could feel his blood pressure climbing. "You do realize you just outed him? His father..."

"Was at the wedding when Andy married his husband a few years ago. Now he's spoiling his twin grandkids rotten. Andy finally had to put limits on how much money Grandpa can spend each month on them." Tim picked up his coffee cup and headed back into the kitchen. "I'll let you think about that for a moment."

John nodded and absently sank down on the large sofa. Vincent had been a good friend, a friendly ear when he'd gotten his first ship. They'd been close, but drifted apart when Vincent retired the moment he qualified for full retirement pay. He'd been what John considered a man's man, his son an absolute chip off the old block.

Swallowing hard, John tried to put his thoughts in order. He'd always made sure he ran a clean ship. Harassment was never allowed, even in the days before DADT was lifted. But this was his son. This time it was personal.

"I don't understand it. I have never been attracted by another man."

Tim walked back in. "See, that's the difference between us. Gender isn't what I find attractive. It's not what attracts me to someone."

"So, if this man you're involved with..."

"If he woke up in a woman's body?" John nodded at the question, glad he didn't have to verbalize it more than he had. "I'd still feel the same way about him. Yeah, sure, it would be easier if he were a she. I'm not naive, Dad, but he's worth it."

"I don't..." John tried to figure out exactly what he was feeling.

"Before you say anything else, just so you know – this relationship might be fairly new, but he's been an integral part of my life for ten years now."

It was unspoken, but the promise that he'd lose if he tried to force the issue was loud and clear. After staring at him long enough to make him squirm – and just when did his son learn to do that – Tim walked down to Tiana's bedroom. "Sweetie, you ready for the park?"

"Yay, can I drive my car?" She had come flying out of her room and was now looking up at her father with an expression that John realized he wouldn't have been able to say no to.

"Did you remember to have Uncle Tony plug it back in for you after you drove it the other day?"

Her little topknot of hair bounced as she nodded vigorously. "I remembered, Daddy."

"All right, let's go get your car." Tim pointed at the dog bed in the corner and the large German Shepard laid down, staring at them. John couldn't get over how well trained he was.

Curious, John followed close as they went through the utility room and into the garage. In one stall was a Lexus SUV and the other held a Porsche convertible. In between was a tiny, battery powered Ferrari. "Obviously being an agent pays more than I thought; or does one of these belong to Papa?"

"Nope, both mine."

"The Ferrari's mine. Uncle Tony bought it for me." Tiana was obviously very proud of her toy car and she was almost bouncing in place as Tim painfully bent down to unplug it from the power cord. John found his feet moving before he fully realized it.

"Here, let me unplug it. You need to watch those ribs, Timothy."

Tim stared at him in shock as he bent down and removed the cord before carefully winding it back up and hanging it on the hook next to the wall plug. John wanted to be amused by his reaction, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd helped his son in any way.

He also wanted to say something, but the words didn't come and then the moment was gone. Tim pushed the button for the automatic garage door opener and gently reminded Tiana about the rules for when they were crossing the street. John watched and listened as Tim patiently talked about traffic and staying right next to him until they got to the paved walkway at the park, mentioning her safety and how hard it would be for the drivers of the full sized cars to see her if she wasn't next to a grown-up.

It took a minute for John to remember anything from Tim's childhood that would compare to that moment. The closest he could come was the hour long lecture he'd given his son after a near collision between his bicycle and a drunken sailor driving on the wrong side of the road. Looking back, he couldn't even remember if he'd actually checked to see if his son was okay first.

Beaming, Tia drove out onto the driveway and stopped to wait for them. Once John joined him at the doorway, Tim activated the controls for the door once again and they stepped through before it closed. Leaning closer, Tim whispered in his ear. "She's getting better, but watch your feet."

"She's not as bad as your sister, is she?"

"Even Ziva's not that bad."

"The ninja is a lousy driver?" Somehow, that amused John a great deal.

"After all the years in this country she still drives like she's avoiding IED's and chasing terrorists – and that's just to go get coffee. Director Shepard even made her take a re-certification class."

"Did it help?"

"She learned where all the speed traps are. Director Vance is threatening to make her take it again." Tim shrugged and started walking down the driveway. "On the upside, when she drives a suspect back to the Yard, they're usually ready to confess by the time she parks."

"Efficient."

They both fell silent as they walked across the street and part way down the block to where Tiana could drive up onto the sidewalk on the other side, while she happily chattered away. As he'd been warned, John had to take a few side steps to protect his highly polished shoes, but she was actually doing pretty well.

They walked the paved loop in the park twice, not saying much to each other as Tiana chattered and kept up a running commentary as she told John about every flower and squirrel in the park.

As they came up to the split in the path once again, Tim spoke softly to his daughter, telling her to take the right hand side, the one that would take them back to the sidewalk. John watched and listened, waiting for a temper-tantrum, but she happily agreed. Tim didn't yell, didn't give an order, but she listened intently to every word he said.

* * *

 **a/n - Glad you guys like this one. Next chapter goes up on Thursday. I've also got the one-shot sequel to _Their Slut_ going up today. Very M rated, just so you know.**


	3. Chapter 3

A large, black SUV drove past them, neither man paying much attention to it until it turned around and parked next to the curb where they were walking. The passenger in the front seat jumped out and opened the back door and father and son both straightened up as Clayton Jarvis climbed out.

"Mr. Secretary."

"Sir."

Tia just grinned and waved and Jarvis waved back before he acknowledged the two man. "Timothy, it's good to see you up and moving around. You gave us all quite a scare. John, good to see you again. You here to make sure your son doesn't push himself too hard?"

John floundered for a moment and Jarvis kept talking. "Tim, I just came from a meeting with the Joint Chiefs. Your entire team will be getting a commendation for capturing the domestic terrorists that had been raiding the military bases and you will be getting an additional commendation for your excellence in breaking the case open."

Tim started to open his mouth, but Jarvis didn't let him object. "As was pointed out to me, it took you less than a day to accomplish what the entire, combined Pentagon cyber-units could not do in months."

For the first time since he'd been a pleb at Annapolis, John McGee broke protocol and interrupted a superior. "Months, Sir?"

"Months." Jarvis smiled, pleased to not only have the bragging rights but to possibly nudge a stubborn man in the right direction. "First break-in was over eighteen months ago. The Pentagon cyber specialists spent eleven months trying to crack their code and figure out how the bases were being targeted, anything to get a jump on the next attack. Like I said, your son did it in one day, right down to the actual time and location of the next attack."

Satisfied when he saw the stunned expression on the Admiral's face, Jarvis turned his attention back to Tim. "Scuttlebutt has it that you're going to be receiving offers from practically every division of the alphabet soup plus a few headhunters at the Pentagon." It was obvious where this was going, Jarvis knew that but he was curious what the younger McGee would say as he shook his head.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sir. I chose NCIS to help protect Navy interests and that's not going to change. However, one of the biggest reasons this went on as long as it did was because the perps kept bouncing between the branches."

"Inner-branch communication."

"Exactly, Sir. Not one branch wanted to admit that they couldn't track the attacks, so for months none of them knew about the other attacks. It was only by looking at the larger picture that we were able to piece it together. Even when each branch knew about the other attacks, they were still focusing their hunt on their own attacks, but when we gathered the commonalities of which bases were being targeted the pattern was a lot easier to see." Tim smiled and tipped his head slightly. "Of course it helps that NCIS spends most of our time hunting the criminal element, it made looking for the perps a great deal easier."

Satisfied with the thoughtful look on the Admiral's face, Jarvis said his good-byes and left for his office.

-NCIS-

His father had been quiet since their visit from the SecNav. Tim was almost tempted to ask, but the arrival of the Autopsy Van in his driveway ended that conversation before it even started. "Ducky?"

Ducky came into the house, pausing for his hug and kiss from Tiana before turning to Tim. "Ah, lad, I hope you don't mind my dropping by, but I'm afraid the team has caught a case. I want to check on your hand before I'm elbows deep in the young lieutenant."

Tim just nodded as he sent Tia to play in her room. Between his father's arrival and the visit from the SecNav, the fact that the van was sitting out there with a dead body in it didn't seem all that unusual. His father, however, seemed almost rattled at the idea. "Wait a minute, you mean there's somebody in there? Can you do that?"

Ducky's eyes had widened at the sight of John McGee standing in Timothy's living room, but now they had a gleam as he addressed the other man. "My assistant, Mr. Palmer, is with the van to maintain the chain of evidence."

"But..."

"Heavens, would you rather we drag him in here? I'm afraid he's about three days old and a bit ripe."

The horror on his father's face was almost comical. "What? No, of course not."

At this point John apparently decided it was best to just stop talking and Ducky covertly grinned at Tim as they sat at the table. "Now, let's see if those fingers are ready to be untaped." He carefully cut the tape free and let Tim slowly flex and straighten the fingers on his left hand. Eventually he was satisfied. "Be a little cautious for a few more days, just to be on the safe side, but I'm sure having one mostly functional hand will be a vast improvement. Now, let's take a look at the rest of you."

Tim patiently sat through a very thorough exam, aware of his father quietly watching from the sidelines. Other than a sharp intake of breath when Ducky helped him take off his shirt and John saw the bruises, there was no interruption until it looked like Ducky was finishing up the exam.

"Well?"

Ducky briefly glanced over at the Admiral, but spoke to Tim. "You're making excellent progress, but that doesn't mean you're anywhere near ready to resume normal activities. The sling and brace stay on your right arm for another four or five weeks at least. Now, I understand that you ordered groceries online and that Jethro was going to pick them up for you tonight?" Ducky really didn't give him time to answer. "I suspect it's going to be a long night for the team and you are certainly not going to try to drive or lift those bags with only one functioning arm and three broken ribs. I can send Jimmy out to get them after we get Lt. Adams back to the Yard."

"That's quite all right, Dr. Mallard. I am perfectly capable of driving my son to the grocery store." John stood at parade rest and gave a slight nod while Tim tried to remember if his father had ever stepped foot in a grocery store. This could be interesting.

Standing with his back to the Admiral, Ducky gave Tim a pointed look before his eyes moved to the hallway. Tim got the idea. "Umm, okay. Well, now that I have a couple of functioning fingers, I'm going to go put on a shirt that buttons."

Pasting on a smile, Ducky turned back toward the Admiral. "Timothy didn't mention that you were coming for a visit, Admiral McGee."

"My son was injured in the line of duty. Is it a surprise that I would want to see how he is doing?"

"Quite frankly, yes. After all these years it is quite a surprise to see you show up. Even Ziva's father, who is the Director of Mossad and was willing to let her die for his agency, is more involved in his daughter's life than you are with Timothy. It does make me wonder if you're truly wanting to change that or if you have an ulterior motive."

John's mouth opened and closed several times but before he could come up with an answer, Timothy reappeared, buttoning his shirt as he held his damaged arm close to his body. Ducky immediately joined him and strapped the sling in place, checking again to make sure no additional damage had been done. "All right, Timothy, I'll be heading back to the Yard now. You be sure and let me know if you have any more dizzy spells. The medication might be working but remember, we don't know for sure exactly what this concussion will do to your earlier condition."

Tim was deliberately not looking at his father, but Ducky was well aware of the Admiral's intent scrutiny. "Ducky, I'm fine."

"So far. I've been doing some additional research and it could take several more weeks for those kind of complications to show up. Now, I realize that all of you think you have hard heads, but this is nothing to mess with, even if the original damage is almost thirty years old." Ducky picked up his coat, preparing to leave, pointedly looked into Tiana's room where she was setting her table for a tea party. "Remember, Lad, you are surrounded by people that love you and need you to take care of yourself."

Without an answer to that, Tim nodded as Tia came running out and took Ducky's hand. "Grandpa Ducky, can you stay and have a tea party with me?"

"Oh, my darling, I wish I could." Ducky bent down and hugged her before kissing the top of her head and turning her to look directly at the Admiral. "Unfortunately, the team is waiting for me to do my work today, but perhaps Grandpa McGee would join you as he does not have any work today."

Admirals do not panic, of course, but this one was pretty close. John tried to backpedal, falling back on his job, obviously hoping it would work as it had for Ducky. "I have an entire ship."

"Did you bring it?" Wide brown eyes were staring up at him.

"What? No, of course not. It's out in the Pacific Ocean right now; a long way from here."

"Then you can have a tea party." Decision made, Tiana took his hand and turned to her room. Cornered, especially after telling Ducky about his concern for Tim, the Admiral had no choice but to follow her and found himself balanced on a little chair.

Ducky smiled all the way back to the Yard.

-NCIS-

Leaving Palmer to set up for the autopsy, Ducky went straight up to the bullpen. Gibbs saw him the moment he came around the corner.

"Ducky, how's he doing?"

"Timothy's recovery is right on schedule, Jethro, but he has had a bit of a surprise. His father showed up this morning."

"What?" Gibbs was already on his feet, pulling out his sidearm to leave, when Ducky waved him back down.

"Now, Jethro, he's handling it just fine. Between Timothy not putting up with anything and our little dynamo, I don't believe the Admiral quite knows which way is up at the moment. When I left, Tiana had dragged him into her room for a tea party." Smiling even wider, Ducky handed over his phone to show the photo he'd covertly snapped of a rather shell-shocked Naval officer perched on a tiny chair and sharing a plate of pretend cookies with a stuffed rabbit.

Gibbs snorted as he sent a copy to his own phone. "Tia does love her tea parties."

"Yes, she does. Now I don't know what has triggered this change of attitude in the Admiral, but I do believe that for Timothy's sake, we need to let it play out. Even if their relationship doesn't improve in the long run, standing up for himself and showing that he's not that timid little boy any longer is a good thing."

"I know, Duck. I just wish I knew what Admiral McGee's reasons were." He handed Ducky back his phone just as Clayton Jarvis arrived.

"I believe I might have an idea about that." Jarvis looked rather pleased with himself as he sat on the corner of Gibbs' desk. "Rumors are flying about the raid last week. Admiral McGee's secretary found out that Agent McGee was one of the leading architects of the raid and that he was injured. A couple of hours later, Admiral McGee's schedule is being shuffled and he's got a plane with his name on it."

"Tim's been hurt before."

"True, but this time he was hurt saving not only millions, possibly billions of dollars of weapons, but the lives of who knows how many soldiers, sailors and Marines. If you think your kid is just tech support for an average team of agents, that's one hell of a wake up call. I _conveniently_ dropped by Agent McGee's home this morning to convey thanks and gratitude from the entire Joint Chief of Staff and to let him know that he would be getting a personal commendation in addition to the commendation that the entire team will be receiving. I think the Admiral was suitably impressed."

From his tone, Gibbs knew that the visit had been planned for just that result. "Did he know about Tiana before he arrived?"

Jarvis pursed his lips as he thought about it. "I don't believe so. Judging from his expression he was a bit..."

When Jarvis paused to find the right word, Ducky jumped in. "Stunned, perhaps?"

"Yes, that's a good word for it." Jarvis laughed and shook his head as he stood. "Wouldn't be surprised if she has his wrapped around her little finger by the time the weekend is over."

Ducky showed Jarvis the picture. "Or by dinnertime, perhaps."

-NCIS-

Tim let the tea party go on for about thirty minutes before rescuing his father. "Sweetheart, I know you're having fun, but I think it's time to stop and have some real food."

Since lunch was almost an hour late, her stomach growled at the mention of food. "Okay, Grandpa is eating with us, right?"

John spoke up before Tim could answer. "How about if I take you and Daddy out to lunch and then we can pick up the groceries?"

Her eyes lit up and she clapped in delight. "Where can we go?"

"Where's your favorite place to eat?"

That made Tim blink. His entire childhood, he could never remember one time where John had asked his kids something like that. He supposed it could be because the Admiral didn't know any family friendly restaurants in the area. If that was the case and he was expecting a burger or pizza joint, he was going to be surprised.

Tiana didn't hesitate. "Kosi."

"Kosi?" John's head swiveled over toward his son. "Over on Duke?"

Tim nodded, knowing that it was a popular restaurant for the older, higher ranked Naval crowd. Enough that he tried to time their visits to land between the lunch and dinner crowd to avoid running into anyone his father knew.

If anything, John seemed impressed that she could be taken to such a high-end restaurant. "Then Kosi it is."

She was smiling and clapping. "Yay, cali-marti with mary-anna sauce."

That definitely got a surprised look from his father as John translated that in his head. "Really?"

"Fried calamari with marinara sauce is one of her favorites." Tim carefully looked Tiana over. There was a smudge on one of her knees and she'd dripped some of her smoothie on her shirt at breakfast. If it were just the two of them going, he'd change her shirt and call it good, but it wasn't going to be just the two of them. "Sweetheart, let's change your clothes, okay?"

Tia never minded dressing up and ran straight for her closet. With the assorted adults ready and willing to spoil her at a moment's notice, she was never short on pretty dresses to wear. A beautiful fuchsia dress with a black tulle overlay and beaded embroidery was picked out, along with a pair of dressy shoes.

John excused himself so that she could get changed, bowing and thanking her for a wonderful tea. Tia gave him a curtsy back and when he stepped out of the room, a bell rang at the other end of the house.

"Could you let Jethro out for a few minutes? The door to the back yard is from the utility room."

Sure enough, when he walked back there, the dog was sitting next to a door, nudging a string of bells with his nose. "So, that's how you ask." He opened the door and the German Shepard trotted outside and went straight to a corner of the yard that was marked off with a rock border. He did his business then detoured to chase a few birds out of the yard before trotting back inside and John shook his head.

They'd had one dog when Tim was maybe four or five. He'd never heard the exact story about how it arrived, it was just there when he came home from a float – a drooling, smelly mutt that his wife had been unable to properly housetrain, let alone teach it some manners. Quickly tiring of the mess he'd insisted the dog become a strictly outside dog before announcing that it would not be going overseas with them.

"You're rather well behaved. Do you know any tricks? Can you shake?"

Jethro plopped down in front of him and offered his paw with a woof. Impressed, John shook it and patted his head before walking back into the living room just as Tim and Tiana were coming out of her room. John had to admit she was adorable. Her hair was still tied up but the clip from this morning had been replaced with a silk flower the same color as her dress. White tights replaced her socks and black patent leather shoes were in Tim's hand. They had tiny buckles on them so John reached out for them.

"Is there a shoe bucking song?"

* * *

a/n - I've been asked about the Hulk Juice. There's no exact set recipe, but the details of making it are in the earlier story "Unhelpful Help", if that helps. :) I'll be back Tuesday with the next chapter (updates should be every Tuesday and Thursday), but I'm hoping to get a few other things updated before the end of the month also.

Just a FYI. July is another NaNoWriMo event and I'm using it to finish up the big bang epic. I'm at 98,000 words and have a lot to finish before I turn in my rough draft in August for the Big Bang. So, figure in July I'll be posting just once a week if I haven't quite gotten this one done yet. - Em.


	4. Chapter 4

Once they were ready to leave, Tim handed the Lexus keys to his father. "You mind if we take this? That way we don't have to move the car seat."

"Ah." Of course it would be easier to drive Timothy's car than to remove the car seat and install it in his rental. John watched as Tim buckled her in, checking every strap as he did. "We ready?"

"We are."

The SUV was comfortable with plenty of power. "If I ever get an assignment on land, I may have to get myself one of these."

"We've been enjoying it. Handles great in the snow, too."

Spring was just around the corner, but John could see that just from the way it handled on the wet pavement. "How's the mileage?"

"Really good, it's a hybrid."

The small talk dried up, but they pulled into the restaurant's parking lot a few minutes later. Tim took Tia's hand after he helped her out and as they walked, she also took John's hand. A look of surprise crossed John's face, then he smiled. As they walked in, the host smiled before bending down to kiss her cheeks.

"Hello, Miss Tiana. It is so good to see you again, and you brought a guest with you."

"This is my Grandpa."

"Welcome to Kosi's, Sir." He turned to give Tim a critical look. "How are you feeling? You gave everyone quite a scare." Several menus in hand, he directed them to a table in the center of the dining room.

Tim smiled and raised his left hand enough to show that he was down to a simple wrist brace on that side. "Better, Amando, thank you. I can actually move my fingers now, at least on this side. Another week or so before they let me have my other hand back."

Once they were seated, Amando handed Tim and the Admiral each a menu. "I know what Miss Tiana would like for lunch. Am I right?"

"Yeppers."

John's foreign language skills weren't very good, but he got as far as Medallions De... and Amando knew exactly what he wanted, the tenderloin with a sauce made of Roquefort cheese, mustard, and cream. Tim's language skills had improved vastly between Tony and Ziva's influence and their international cases and easily ordered the Poisson Du Golfe, a dish he'd had before and one that he could easily handle without needing a knife to cut. A waitress set down a platter of assorted appetizers just as they were finishing their order and the bartender arrived a few seconds later with a Shirley Temple for Tia along with crayons and paper. John shook his head, more amused than he would have ever imagined. "This really is her favorite restaurant, isn't it?"

"One of them." Tim shook his head at the bartender. Pain meds eliminated any chance for a glass of wine today. "I'm just having coffee today, thanks."

"And for you, Sir?"

Tim saw his father glance over at another table where the alcohol was flowing rather freely, but he was pretty sure that the Admiral wouldn't indulge; not when they were so carefully tip-toeing around each other and watching every word. One thing John McGee could never be accused of, and that was losing control.

"Coffee also, thank you."

-NCIS-

As the waitstaff quietly withdrew, John sipped at his coffee and studied his only son, trying to fully understand him. Penny had frequently accused him of not understanding what made Tim the man he was and honestly, she was right. Here was a brilliant mind, capable of running entire think tanks, but happily being a junior agent on a four person team. He never seemed to yell or even raise his voice, yet he had a well behaved, obviously happy child and an amazingly well trained dog.

"Tell me about the dog."

Tim seemed as surprised to hear the question as John was that the words had come out of his own mouth. After a moment, he shrugged slightly with his one functioning shoulder, carefully watching Tiana as he spoke. "He was a Navy drug detection dog when we first met him. A, uh, dirty petty officer had dosed him with an almost lethal amount of cocaine and set it up to look like he'd killed his handler. We, umm, we had a rough start, but when it was over I got talked into taking him in and it was a good answer for both of us."

John remembered what Tim had said about the Medical Examiner treating him after he'd been mauled by a dog. Adding in how casually and calmly he was talking about it and how carefully he was watching Tiana's reactions and John's eyes widened. Tim nodded slightly and subtly pulled his shirt collar back far enough to show the scars as he continued to talk.

"Transitioning him from a military life to a civilian life, well, I didn't want him to get bored because bored dogs tend to become destructive, so it was time he learned a more than how to find drugs."

"So he's totally retired?"

"Not totally." Tim looked rather amused, but their soups arrived and the topic was dropped, at least for now.

John hadn't realized soup came with lunch, but Tia piped up before digging into her own little bowl. "We always get the soup, Grandpa."

Enjoying the soup and the rest of the appetizers, John was almost caught off guard when a group of officers from the Pentagon walked past, stopping and snapping off brisk salutes. "Sir, good afternoon, Sir. I didn't realize you were in Washington, Admiral McGee. Is there anything we can do to assist you while you're in town?"

If there was anything Admiral McGee could recognize was a brown-nosing subordinate as he read the name tag on the uniform. "Thank you, Commander Brown, but I think I can handle a weekend with my family."

"Family? Oh, Agent McGee, I didn't make the connection."

"No reason you should. McGee's not that uncommon of a name and I don't use my father's connections to try and impress people." Listening to Tim, John realized that the two men knew each other and, judging from Tim's tone, they weren't friends. When Brown briskly saluted again and stormed off, John turned to Tim, looking for answers.

"Commander Brown, nephew of Senator Brown, heads up the Pentagon Cyber-team for the Navy."

The pieces falling into place, John had to smile as he looked over at the sulking man ordering another drink from the bar. "Ahh, eleven months, right? Then you broke it in one day."

"Me and my team."

John approved of that answer, along with the confidence behind it. "I take it the Commander wasn't too happy?"

"I'm sure no one enjoys being called an idiot by the SecNav in front of two admirals and a general."

That made John laugh. "My God, you've grown up."

"And you've mellowed, a lot."

John tilted his head in acknowledgment. Probably more shock that mellowing, but he'd give him that one. The soup was very good and while they ate, he watched Tiana. His granddaughter, that was something that still made his head spin when he thought about it. Of course Timothy was old enough to be a father without causing any embarrassment but still, he was a grandfather. His mother was going to have a field day with this one. "Does Penny know?"

"I spoke to her a few weeks ago, right after you apparently had a strange conversation with her."

That made sense. "Yes, I called her after the SecNav mentioned your leave and how much you were needed on the case. Of course, he didn't tell me what kind of leave, but...

"But threw enough hints your direction that you'd get curious?"

"Something like that. First I knew that you weren't just some junior agent on a random team."

"We've never been just some random team. We're the top MCRT in the Agency, have been for years."

Anything else that would have been said stopped when the food arrived. John's steak was excellent, the Roquefort and cream sauce divine, but most of his attention was on Tiana. When his own children were that age, he never would have dreamed of bringing them to a place like this but here she was, enjoying her calamari while the waitstaff beamed at her. He was more impressed than he was willing to admit.

"Is that good?"

Her head bounced up and down. "Uh huh, it's yummy and their mary-anna sauce is almost as good as Daddy's."

John wondered absently what he did to make bottled sauce taste better than what they were serving here, but then Tim gave Tiana a piece of his fish and John's curiosity shifted to see how she would take to something new.

"Here you go, Sweetheart. This is a piece of mahi-mahi, I think you'll like it. It's kind of like halibut, only a little sweeter."

She ate the piece of fish and smiled. "Yummy, Daddy."

"I thought you'd like that. How about if we grill some in a few weeks when I can use my arm better?"

That got an enthusiastic nod as she dug into her calamari once again. John was amazed. "She seems very willing to try new things."

"Grace and I were always introducing her to new foods, starting as soon as she was ready for any kind of solid foods."

"It was always a battle when your mother tried to get you or Sarah to try something new."

"The way Mom cooked?"

John had to chuckle at that. Even he'd been scared when she'd tried something new. "Good point."

* * *

a/n - NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow, so I'll be writing like mad on that piece. If all goes according to plan, I should be able to continue to post at least once a week on this one, too.

Sigh, it only took 6 Army doctors 8 weeks to diagnose a spinal (stress) fracture in my son. Hopefully they will be a little quicker in treating it.


End file.
